Cold
by fantasyfun0311
Summary: Dean is gone, but Sam's still here. We only have each other, but Sam has a different definition of 'having' in mind. (Sexy) (2 part) (Sam/AU)
1. Chapter 1

I'm cold.

Not temperature wise, no.

Sammy tells me I'm _cold._

Emotionally stunted, if you will.

What made him say this, you ask?

Well for the first time in _four years_ Sam saw me cry.

Now don't get me wrong; I've cried. I just usually enjoy it in the confines of my shower, where the water easily drowned out the sound of my sobbing. I liked it better when no one could hear me, see me, do that awful thing people sometimes do and try to _comfort_ me.

 _Like Sam._

My lord, when he saw that one tear slide down my cheek suddenly he was my knight in sun-bleached plaid because he swept me up into his arms before I could tell him _absolutely not_ and forced me to stay there until I could tell him what was wrong.

Which would have been very simple, if I knew what was wrong.

I didn't know how to explain emotions I actively tried to ignore with every fiber of my 'cold' being.

 **...**

 _I wanted to tell Sam to leave me alone, so I did, and when I scrambled out of his strong hold and gave us a ten foot distance from one another he just watched me with worried eyes._

" _This isn't like you."_

 _I gave him a fucking-duh look and shrugged my shoulders. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. Only a small crinkle of the skin between my eyebrows gave him any indication that I was this close (about a millimeter) away from losing my shit entirely._

 _His hazel eyes assessed me with an astuteness that made me uncomfortable, so I turned away from him and faced the open doorway of my bedroom. The dim lighting outside my door illuminated half of the hallway before me and once more I was assaulted by the lonely sound of absolutely nothing that was ultimately my undoing._

" _Come on, talk to me. We only got each other to get through this," Sam said softly._

 _I snorted._

" _We both know you can't count on me," I argued._

 _Sam slammed his palms down on his thighs and I could see him moving from his spot on the edge of my bed._

" _Stop it. Look I know you're not the...warmest person, that's something you've learned from Dean. You're both like two emotionally stunted children! And I get it, he was your best friend. Then he died. He was my brother. I loved-love him, too. We gotta use each other to work through this. We won't survive this if we don't," Sammy said._

 _From the sound of his voice he was standing right behind me so I turned to face him._

 _I opened my mouth again, but once more nothing but a pitiful squeak came out as my whole face crumpled in on itself and I shuddered from the strength of my tears as they began to practically pour from my eyes in the most hideous ugly-cry of the century._

 _It was beyond embarrassing, but Sam's wide eyes stayed trained on me like he was afraid to miss a moment of my scary breakdown._

" _He's gonna come for me, Sam. You heard him. You heard him. He won't stop, not as a demon," I whispered._

 _Sam's shoulders fell as he came towards me, his warm hands closing over the tender skin of my shoulders._

" _Is that why you're crying? You're scared? I won't let him get to you, okay?"_

 _His promise fell onto deaf ears as I shook my head and wrapped my tiny fingers around the lapels of his plaid shirt._

" _You and I both know that won't work Sammy. I'll be the bait and you'll be the fisherman, and Dean? He's gonna have to be the biggest catch of our lives because you know that we can't lose him."_

 _I didn't bother mentioning what we already knew; that I was too attached, that they were my only family._

 _That I slept in Dean's bed some nights, curling into his soft t-shirt sheets like his arms would come from beneath the mattress and hold me._

 _That I played his favorite Led Zeppelin CD when I made dinner every Friday._

 _That I still washed his laundry (even though he hadn't been home in months to wear it) every Wednesday when I did the rest of my bunker chores._

 _Or, apparently, that I was terrified of the Dean that was now a demon and no longer the missing puzzle piece we mourned for._

 _Sam's gaze swept around the room before he held his hands out in surrender or maybe irritation._

" _I didn't know, okay? You can turn it off with the flick of a switch! I had no idea this was affecting you this much," Sam admitted. I winced and nodded my head._

" _I know."_

" _You're like a damn brick wall, and that reminds me of Dean so often, it's scary. There's no readin' you! I just-why didn't you tell me? Huh? I don't want to think about you crying in here all alone, but that's exactly what you've been doing, isn't it?," Sam accused._

" _No."_

" _Don't bother lying. This is the most expressive your face has been in months," Sam spat._

 _I caved in on myself and leaned forward, hands on my knees, to try and catch my breath. Apparently my capacity for acting like a brick wall was fading fast and it felt like every brick from said wall was caught in my chest and actively trying to suffocate me._

" _You saw the look in his eyes today, Sam. He meant what he said. Dean is still in there somewhere! Are you sayin' you don't believe he wants to kill me?," I asked calmly._

 _I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders, shaking my head to try and clear it._

 _His face pulled up into a smile as he placed his hands on his hips and chuckled mirthlessly. Shaking his head, his gaze pierced right through me._

" _And there it is. The cold facade. You've got it down to a science don't you, the way you shut down? The way you shut people out? Why can't you just_ _ **let me in!"**_

 _I stood slowly, running a hand through my haphazard hair and ignored the consistent tremor in my bottom lip._

" _You said it yourself, I'm cold. I'm frigid. I'm the god-damned ice queen, Sammy! Isn' it easier that way? To not get attached? Like Dean always says, we ain't gonna live long anyways!," I said hotly._

 _Sam rolled his eyes and dropped his hands to his sides, his plaid shirt practically falling off of one shoulder. His pristine white t-shirt drew my attention when I realized he was breathing shallower than I was._

" _Shit, Sam. Please don't-you aren't gonna cry, are you?," I asked._

 _I took a step towards him and when he held out his large hands as if to ward me off I shook my head and threaded our fingers together._

" _I hear you, and I'm sorry."_

 _His hazel eyes reluctantly met mine and I hung my head._

 _That's when it hit me, the reason I was so afraid._

" _If he takes you too, I'm fucked. I won't have anyone, Sam. Believe me when I tell you that unlike Dean I_ _ **can**_ _be alone. I could go on and live my life without you,-"_

" _Gee, thanks-"_

" _I just don't want to," I said, interrupting Sam before he could get his boxers in a twist._

 _Slowly, ever so slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased and he stood up straighter, pulling me closer to him by our intertwined fingers._

" _You're so damn stubborn," He muttered._

 _I quirked a half-smile._

" _I know."_

" _Why can't you ever just tell me these things? It's nice to hear, ya know, that you aren't a complete ice statue," Sam said with a lilt of teasing in his voice._

 _I snorted._

" _You're a dude. We're like two dudes."_

 _He dropped my hands and shook his head before his hazel eyes slid up the length of my body and stopped when they met my eyes._

" _Believe me when I tell you, you're the farthest thing from a 'dude' I've ever seen."_


	2. Chapter 2

Obviously I do not own Supernatural, but I do love to write about these men!

Enjoy!

So there I sat, watching the flame of a candle dance in the darkness, wondering if Sam knew what he was doing when he watched me the way he did. He was working around the kitchen, trying to make me a _real dinner_. Honestly, I was curious as to why he was bothering; but he'd calmly explained to me that since Dean was home and everything was (tentatively) fine we needed time to relax.

I'd asked him why we needed to do it _together_ of course, and he just smiled at me in that way that he does, as if to say ' _you're so cute_.' Which rankled my nerves something fierce if I'm being honest.

I was not cute, not in the least bit.

 _Cute._

Please; I was full of piss and vinegar, _no_ t sugar and spice and he damn well knew it.

I glanced at up at him, stirring something in a pot with soft music playing in the background. He didn't appear to be listening to it, but it was relaxing just the same. Whatever he was making smelled divine, and as curious as I was about his intentions behind this little dinner I was actually relieved that we were able to have this night. After what had happened with Dean (almost) when he'd first been brought back to the bunker, I never thought tonight would happen.

" _Take my hand, and don't you dare let go!," Sam ordered._

 _I took a deep breath, shivers racking my body, and shook my head._

 _Pain, pain, pain._

 _Agony._

 _Breathe, just breathe._

" _I told you, Sammy. I told you he was gonna try and kill me!," I whispered. His head dipped for a moment as he tried to gather his thoughts before he gripped my hand tightly in his and squeezed._

" _Cas will be here soon. Don't you dare close those beautiful eyes!," Sam demanded._

 _I blinked, dismissing that comment about my eyes, as blood continued to pour through the fingers of my other hand. I glanced down at the stab wounds lining my abdomen and felt the tears fill my eyes. I did not want to cry._

" _That's gotta be a record; two times in a week?," Sam tried to joke. I quirked a smile, but it was getting harder to breathe._

" _Sam, I gotta say this-,"_

" _Don't fucking finish that-"_

" _I love you. I do. I may not be sweet- and...and-_ _ **open-"**_

" _Shut your mouth and keep breathing! You are not leaving me."_

 _His hazel eyes were practically melted, washing over me like a summer rain._

" _Okay. Okay."_

Now, I had no idea what to say. I hadn't mean that I was _in love_ with him, but for me that admission was just as serious. Ever since that moment, two short weeks ago, I've dealt with an overprotective Dean who apologized profusely and a very confusing Sammy who did nothing but watch me with those mysterious glances and sweet smiles.

It was damned unnerving, and he knew it.

"Dinner's done. I'll bring it to you," He murmured.

I watched his back flex beneath that tight t-shirt and felt myself blush. Really? Now of all times, when I was barely recovered from practically dying in his arms, my body wanted to react _like that?_

 _Listen here heart, he's not for you. Winchester men die easier than they live, and that's the fucking truth._

 _But he's so fucking sweet..._

"You okay? Ya look a little under the weather," Sam said as he slid a plate of steaming spaghetti towards me.

"Gee, you really know how to compliment a girl," I snorted.

His smile was easy as he appraised me, scooting his chair forward and setting his elbows on the top of the table. He leaned forward, still smiling, and I sighed.

"And if I told you that I've been thinking about how beautiful you are the entire evening, would you take that compliment?"

I was back to blushing and he was back to shaking his head, leaving me with no other option than to take a drink of my water and try desperately to hide my pinkening cheeks. Twirling my fork in the spaghetti before me, I tried not to question why he was doing this, but I began to overthink every little gesture, and that comment?  
" _And if I told you that I've been thinking about how beautiful you are the entire evening, you would take that compliment?"_

 _What the hell was that?!_

"Okay, spill. Why did you do this? Why are we sitting here eating dinner like we're on a date? And why are you telling me I'm beautiful when we both know I'm not your type at all," I asked. I took a deep breath and sat back in my chair, crossing my arms.

With a sigh, Sam sat back as well and pushed his plate to the side.

"First off-don't cross your arms at me like that. It's one of your most annoying defense mechanisms and I would never hurt you. You know that, I know that, so the arm-crossing-leave-me-alone bit is overkill," Sam said.

I frowned, but I slowly uncrossed my arms.

"Second off, I would _like_ to take you out on a date but we both know that's not your thing. Believe me, I've racked my brain over how to do this, but starting things off casual is the best and only answer I could come up with."

I winced at how close to home that hit, and was momentarily awed at how much he must pay attention.

"And last but not least, you're beautiful. You have to know that, and if you don't I wouldn't mind spending quite a bit of time showing you just how beautiful I think you are; but you have to _let me._ As far as you being my type? Well, sweetheart, you've never _asked,"_ Sam finished, raising one eyebrow and shifting in his seat so he could glare at me better.

I was, obviously, _speechless_.

Sam seemed to know an awful lot about me, and that made me slightly uncomfortable with a side of, well, flattered.

 _Shit._

"So this is a date to you?"

He laughed, tipped his head back and laughed, before he settled his elbows on the table top again.

"You're missing the point."

"I got your point, Winchester. You wanna fuck me, and while that's surprising and flattering I'll admit, I'm curious as to why you're just telling me this _now,"_ I admitted.

Those hazel eyes flashed for a second before he leaned in closer.

"I can _fuck_ any girl I want. When have you ever seen me take the time to woo a woman, just to fuck her? You've never seen me ' _Dean'_ a woman and we both know I would never treat anyone that way, let alone you. You practically died in my arms last week and I almost, _almost_ lost the chance to do to this," He said fiercely as he glared at me.

"You talk about me like I'm some holy grail of a woman, Sam. I'm not; we just talked about this, remember? I'm cold, unfeeling, robotic, the fucking ice queen-"

"Maybe I want to warm you up."

His expression softened slowly.

I opened my mouth with a witty retort on my tongue, but decided to say nothing instead. That was probably one of the sexitest things anyone had ever said to me, and I wanted to hear more.

 _Let that freak flag fly, babygirl._

"Talk dirty to me, Sam."

His brow furrowed.

"What?"

"I don't want you to 'woo' me. I already like you," I said as I leaned forward so we were closer to one another, "I want you to talk dirty to me."  
His gaze fell for a second before he bent forward and lifted one of my bare feet into his lap, and pressed it against his erection. The feeling of his hard cock through the worn denim of his jeans was startling and _hot._

"How dirty are we talkin' here?," He huffed.

I didn't take my eyes from his as I answered, "filthy."

His smirk was one of pure sex appeal as he rubbed the arch of my foot in his lap and licked his lips.

"The first time you stayed with us in that dingy motel outside of Wisconsin, I caught a peek of you in coming out of the shower. I spent two hours in the car that night jackin' off to the memory of that small peek of your body," Sam said.

As he glanced at me from beneath his lowered lashes I gently pressed my foot against his erection. He hissed from between his teeth and his gaze shot to mine. His pupils were blown out, making his eyes almost completely black.

 _Damn, that's sexy._

"Dirtier."

He scooted forward in his chair, giving me better access to his dick.

"That night in Chattanooga, when you got attacked by that werewolf and I had to patch you up, I didn't need you to take your top all the way off. I just told you I did so I could catch a glimpse of your perfect tits," Sam admitted.

 _My. Panties. Are. So. Wet._

I smiled, bit the edge of my lip and nodded.

"Dirtier."

"I stole a pair of your panties from the laundry a month ago so I could smell your sweet pussy as I touched myself."

 _Bingo._

 _Wham, bam, thank you ma'am._

"And tonight? What did you have planned after our little dinner was over, Sam?"

He smiled and pressed his cock against the inside of my foot.

"I was hoping dessert would follow."

I nodded, looking at all the mess littering the table.

"Did you send Dean out of here on purpose?"

Sam laughed.

"That was the easiest part. I gave him a false lead to follow for the night, and he gladly took the offer," Sam said through a shit-eating grin.

"Sammy, you've been a very bad boy. What if this hadn't gone the way you'd planned?," I wondered aloud.

He shrugged.

"I still don't believe you'll ever want me the way I want you, but I'll willing to take whatever I can get," He told me honestly.

I frowned.

 _Why wouldn't I?_

 _Had he ever actually talked to me about any of this my answer would have been far different than he thought._

 _He was gorgeous, after all; and smart, sweet, thoughtful, honest, loyal, trustworthy-_

I stood, using my arm to swipe all of the food to the floor in one sweeping motion. Sam's eyes widened as I climbed onto the table and settled myself between his open thighs.

"Now's your chance, Sammy. Tell me what you're thinkin' right now," I dipped my head and pressed my lips against the shell of his ear, "And make it _filthy."_

His large hands wrapped around my waist and anchored me to my spot on the edge of the table.

"I can smell how wet your pussy is for me, and I want _nothing more_ than to taste every inch of you, hear you scream my name as I fuck you," Sam said before he buried one hand in the hair at my nape and pressed his hot mouth against mine.

I moaned, amazed at how perfect his lips felt as they caressed me.

Slowly, as he worked my mouth over with a skill I did not expect, I felt my walls come down.

What had started as a joke (somewhat) had quickly turned into something else and it wasn't until he wrapped me up in his arms that I realized that I _needed it._

"Please don't stop," I whispered fervently against his lips, soaking in all of the comfort and warmth he offered.

 _I'm cold._

 _I'm cold._

 _I'm frigid._

With shaking hands, I wrapped his face in my grip and kissed him back with everything I had. He groaned, sucking my bottom lip between his pearly whites as he stood. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pressed myself against his hard cock that was now straining against the dark denim of his jeans. I was whispering his name, tugging on his hair, sucking on his tongue when I felt him lift me.

I loved the contact, loved how his hard body felt against my soft one.

He seemed to love it too, because his hands were roving over every clothed inch of me like he wished for nothing more than to taste my cold flesh.

"I have to have you _now,"_ He said into my mouth.

I didn't get a word out before he was pulling my shirt off, freeing my breasts. He sighed wistfully and sucked one budded nipple into his mouth like it could breathe life into him...and perhaps it could. He paid due attention to my 'perfect tits' licking and loving them as he laved them with his tongue.

I took the time to pull his shirt up over his washboard abs, silently appreciating how perfectly sculpted he was (as if he was a Greek statue, honestly) as his shirt came off completely. With my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, there was no way I could reach into his pants like I wanted to, so I wiggled to get his attention.

"I want you to lay me down on that table, and fuck me."

His smirk was all the answer I got as he slammed my ass onto the table, unbuttoned my jeans so quickly his hands blurred, and removed his with just as much speed. I was almost panting, rubbing my thighs together to get some friction. When my hand traveled south, along the seam of my panties, Sam snatched my hand away and shook his head.

"Now who's being bad?," He asked as he literally tore my panties in two. I gasped, shocked and yet incredibly _aroused_ as he buried two fingers past the knuckle inside of me.

"That's right baby. You're so fuckin' wet, damn...," He whispered as he bent me backwards and kissed me heatedly.

I wanted to reply.

I did.

But I could feel his bare cock against the inside of my thigh and the temptation to wrap my fingers around it was far greater than anything I'd ever felt, so I wrapped my hand around him.

He bucked into my hand, hard, and grabbed it before I could stop him.

"Tell me this is what you want."

I nodded, tugged him closer, but he paused.

"Use your words damn it."

"I want you, please, Sammy. I _need_ you," I admitted.

His groan was all the answer I got as he slid home, filling me and stretching me to the point of a pleasure-pain I'd never felt before.

"Fuck, you feel so good," I heard myself say. He only grunted as he began to slam into me like his life depended on it.

Faster and faster, until I felt my body stiffen and my pussy clench in a familiar way that had me writhing and gasping in his arms. I would have begged for anything, given him _anything_ in that moment because he felt so good and all I wanted was to devour him.

"I'm gonna come," I choked out, wrapping my hands around the back of his neck and dragging his mouth down to mine.

Sam lifted one thigh and wrapped my leg around his waist, hitting my g-spot at an angle that had me moaning his name like it was the only word I knew.

"Sam, _Sam,"_ I whispered.

He murmured something sweet, about me being beautiful, and it happened.

Arching my back I wrapped my other leg around his waist as my orgasm overwhelmed me in a way that I would never regret. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over and through my body as Sam said something before his thrusts became jerky and slow.

He wrapped me up in his arms and leaned forward to rest his forehead against mine, kissing me softly as he did so.

That...

Sam...

 _Wow._

 _That was..._

"Fuck," I heard.

I opened my eyes to see Sam gazing at me in a way he never had before.

"Are you alright?," He asked me, concern lining his wide irises.

"I'm perfect. You're perfect."

He smiled, _really smiled_ , and I admired the sight.

"So how was that for a first date?," He asked with a chuckle.

I rolled my eyes and kissed his stubbled chin.

"It was _okay...,"_ I trailed off, waiting for his retort.

"Just okay?," He asked, moving away from me slightly to run a calloused thumb over one of my still sensitive nipples.

I gasped, smiling when he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth.

"I was hoping it wasn't over yet," I said, pinching one of his nipples. He groaned, like I knew he would, and smiled.

"Well, I was right."

"About what?," I wondered.

He kissed me softly, tenderly, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"You're definitely _not_ a dude."


End file.
